


The Tension of Opposites

by silasfinch



Category: Saving Hope
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: Etheriei wrote the 'out of depth' scene from Maggie's POV and I decided to write a mirror from Sydney POV.Emotions and Escalations





	The Tension of Opposites

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Etheriei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etheriei/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I'm trying to Understand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289732) by [Etheriei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etheriei/pseuds/Etheriei). 



> This fic is the result of being stuck inside with heavy rain and having an assignment due = boarding productive procrastination

A Tension of Opposites

 

_“Don’t forget that I cannot see myself, that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror.”_

_Jacques Rigaut- French Poet_

_Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn't. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted. A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle._

_Morrie Schwartz - American Teacher and Advocate_

 

“What would your family do if you didn’t marry Herschel?”

 

Do I fight the urge to laugh hysterically at the notion? Surely my fate is obvious even to the liberal progressive?

 

 

My emotional reserves are empty from having Neshma back in my life and having the dubious honour of being her baby's treating physician. Maggie Katz and more precisely the effect she has on my soul is not something I can deal with right now; only foolish things can result from this proximity.

 

I struggle whether to either frighten or send her away. I'll say this for Bryan Travers and his cowboys at Hope Zion, their junior doctors do not lack for tenancy.

 

“You don’t understand, Maggie. You are out of your depth."

 

It's a vain hope that my frosty tone will warn her off but I feel compelled to try. However, wounding a young doctor’s ego sometimes works, if only Alex Reid would materialise with a best friend crisis.

 

"Our kiss through me for a loop but I see now it may have caused you pain and I'm sorry for hassling you about Hershel"

 

"I'm Orthodox I live with a whole host of expectations. It's not just about our kiss."

 

 I am so bone weary but if I leave the hospital all there is to look forward to is ecstatic female relatives and arguments over lace. A vain attempt to describe my circumstances, to this brilliantly infuriating woman, seems slightly less torturous if only by virtue of the fact Maggie knows my ambivalent feelings.

 

"I understand that...."

 

"No, you don't!"

 

 "Once I’m married, when my husband wants to have sex with me, he throws his yarmulke on the bed."

 

"That's dark..."

 

I should not take satisfaction in the disgust that is evident as she processes this information. It's the same experience that so many of my colleagues wear when I make the mistake of opening up about the expectations of the faith. However, this perverse pride is a small sin in comparison to the ones I commit with this woman in my dreams on an almost nightly basis.

 

I feel the impossible weight of tears wrack my body as I confess my version of the adolescent fantasy that led to Neshama's shunning. Maggie is blessedly silent, I think there is a sheen of tears in her eyes, but the lights are too bright in here to tell.

 

"I as much as killed someone, Maggie.".

 

My final proclamation does not lessen the sympathy in her eyes or the forgiveness that she is willing to extend.

 

 “So don’t you dare say this is about you or that you understand.”  This refusal is meant to be a warning command, but it sounds more like a plea, for understanding, for forgiveness.

 

 

“What do you mean I don’t understand?” there is real anger in her voice now, that legendary unflappability is unravelling but she remains motionless even though I know she has boards to study for and friends who are waiting for her.

 

“Neshama is happy. That much I understand. The rest I am trying to understand.”

 

Yes, Neshama is happy, blissfully so, with a liberal Jewish academic who I may or may not have Googled on my lunch break. Neshama was also far braver, questioning things long before ideas of sexuality came into play. The price she paid is too high for a Katz daughter, for somebody who relied on the community to get through medical school.

 

This isolation is too high of a price to pay for a woman whose sister still needs counselling through a second miscarriage.

 

“When someone is trying to understand, the correct procedure is not to push them away!” there are tears in her eyes, and I want Maggie to leave, cursing my name.

 

I silently disagree, this is an entirely reasonable course of action for an emotionally regressive perfectionist with no social skills.

 

“What would your family do if you didn’t marry Herschel?”

 

Dr Maggie Lin has this habit of using few words, and she can often leap from topic to topic without any clear direction. Her motto is 'why use five words when one will do". This tendency drives me mad during rounds and in this situation, I'm too tired even to attempt to understand.

 

"What"?

 

“I mean….. I mean, what would your parents do if, say, you were to marry someone else."

 

“Who else would I marry, Maggie? The man in the moon?”

 

I'm only exaggerating slightly; every female relative despairs at my lack of prospects. It is a miracle that Hershel agrees to our arrangement. There are many things wrong with me as a prospective bride, but chief amongst them is my absolute refusal to give up my career and my adamant defence of the non-believers in my care.

 

I may be devout, but I am also dangerous for the precious sons and future children.

 

Maggie regards me with such solemnity that I know what she is about to say before the words form just by the grave look on her face and the tremble of her hands. There is suddenly far too little oxygen making it to my lungs, my cheeks aflame, giving away my every emotion. My extremities start to go numb.

 

"Me"

 

I believe in the power of words. The vows I took, first as a Jewish woman and then as a doctor are the most sacred of my existence. Words like this cannot be proclaimed lightly, not in a featureless staffroom on the heels of an argument.

 

“What do you mean you?”

 

It is a herculean effort to get the words past my lips in a comprehensible manner. I feel like my soul is under siege, just like the story of Job or Jacob, except there is no certainty at the end of my story.

 

“I mean what would they do, say, if you were to marry a woman that just turned out to be me? What would they do or say?”

 

I desperately want to commend Maggie for her bravery, for allowing herself such emotional vulnerability. She is displaying tremendous faith in the face of fierce opposition. Dr Lin knows the pain I am about to cause. Her lanky frame is bracing for impact, but she says the words anyway.

 

“Hypothetically speaking... Let’s say I would. They would disown me and act as if I was dead just like Neshama’s parents. Hypothetically speaking that is.”

 

My words are hollow and flat. The one certainty I know is that there is no way that Maggie Lin is going to propose to a wreck of a human being who has been borderline abusive at times. I can claim very little nobility at this point, but I will not be responsible for dimming the light in her eyes.

 

“I didn’t say hypothetically though.”

 

Of course, the junior Canadian debate champion refuses to let my weak argument slide; she would have made a fantastic lawyer. Why couldn't her father have practiced law and inspired his daughter in that direction?

 

However, as trying as this conversation is I refuse to regret the series of events that brought us together.

 

“We shared one kiss which honestly meant nothing.” I am not even trying in my denials now, just going through the motions out of reflex.

 

 "Wait...There is no way you are claiming that it meant nothing again. If it did, would you have done it?”

 

Maggie reaches out to touch me again, ignoring my unwritten rules about touch and personal space. She has already touched me far more than my future husband, both literally and figurately.

 

“OK, fine it didn’t mean nothing.”

 

Traditional marriages find their foundation on far less in fact. My parents did not even kiss before marriage and Becca, and Samuel did not spend months teaching and learning from each other. Maggie is right, our kiss is many things but above all, that moment was the opposite of meaningless.

 

"Ok Fine"

 

“That kiss didn’t mean nothing for me and to be perfectly honest it has been running on repeat in my head ever since your lips had touched my own. I know this is sudden, but we are both adults and running away from things or people has NEVER helped anyone. We don’t have to start with marriage but maybe one day….. I mean you don’t need your family if you got me right?.”

 

The words are meant to inject humour into the situation, but she isn't convincing. However, brave she is, the words are costing Maggie her emotional reserves as well. It comes to me suddenly that she has been considered second best far too many times, by Gavin, By her Dad.

 

Our fledgling relationship is shaking my world and core beliefs, but it is also treading on Maggie's sense of self. This tower of strength is a woman who lost a baby to biology and a boyfriend to miscommunication.

 

"And if possible I would love to be given the opportunity to continue that kiss where we left off. Maybe this is all very bad timing and all, but I can’t go another day without at least telling you this.”

 

If I were a braver person, I would share some of my inner feelings. How thoughts of Maggie torment my every waking hour, how I kissed her because it felt like a gravitational pull.  The timing is also going to be terrible; there is no getting around it.

 

There is a distant possibility the formidable Dr Alex Reid may kill me for creating such drama in such an important year.

 

I want to tell her that it’s possible I fell in love the second she misidentified me in the exam room.

 

I want to tell her that if I prayed to God for the remainder of my life, there would be no one more perfect in my eyes.

 

I want to tell her that I am unworthy of her devotion and in awe of her faith in the face of all odds and signs to the contrary.

 

There are so many words running through my mind that none make it past my trembling lips.

 

"Sydney"

 

Silence is a fundamental part of the Jewish faith. We commune with God silently, we listen to sermons mainly in silence, we say our prayers in silence and we make our decisions alone. However, it takes me awhile to realise that I have sunk into contemplation without offering a single word of reassurance and though Maggie is remarkable she is still human.

 

“Do you mean that?”  there is no strength to my voice.

 

“Yes, of course. Maggie Lin doesn’t mince her words.” Once again her bluster is false, her heart is on the line as much as mine.

 

"Ok"

 

The relief I feel at uttering the words is misplaced. There is going to be hell to pay (possibly literally) for breaking off the engagement. The chances are good that my family will say the death rites for me. My mother will hurl every insult at me while Becca will refuse to let me see any future children.

 

However, it is a much higher price to pay to live a lie and torment both an amazing woman and an honourable man in the process.

 

"Ok"

 

The sensible thing to do now would be to retreat to our separate corners. The hard conversation is over, and we have clawed our way to common ground. We both need sleep and space to work out our next step, and I must urgently cancel an expensive wedding cake and jilt a groom.

 

For once these arguments do not win, and I reach out for Maggie with trembling hands bringing our lips together. I'm crying again, but Maggie depends merely on the kiss, cradling my face gently. I'm in no doubt of her enthusiastic approval, but she lets me set the pace.

 

We rest our foreheads together, struggling to regain breath.

 

"This will end in marriage. There is no 'one day' to that question" I say, my words were boarding on hysterical, but there is also certainty in my voice.

 

"I know" Maggie eyes are dancing with mirth and desire. "I would marry you tomorrow, but HR would get in the way, and I'm going to be a doctor before I ask," she says calmly.

 

"You ask?" I say with a breathy laugh.

 

"Mmmm I felt this in my bones when you quoted Shakespeare to me."

 

My response melts when she kisses me again, a smile on her lips. This moment solves very little but it is a balm to my soul. I feel as if there is nothing I wouldn’t face to be with this woman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
